Fraggles in Halloween Town
by Knightcrawler
Summary: Boober and Wembley Fraggle find a mysterious door that leads them to a scary, spooky Halloween place. They then find that sometimes, those that look and act very different from fraggles can have more in common with them than they could have possibly imagined...


**Author's Note – My first Halloween fan fiction, and also my first cross-over fic. Enjoy!**

Fraggles in Halloween Town

Boober wondered how Wembley had convinced him to do this. Come to think about it, he often wondered how his friends managed to convince him to go along with their adventures, with their fun and danger and germs. But it was only him and Wembley now, in the Gorgs' garden, aiming to get radishes and not be thumbed by the Gorgs in the process. It was Mokey's job to gather radishes, but she was currently sick with Fraggle Flu, while their friends Red and Gobo were looking after her, and doubtlessly arguing the whole time. So when Mokey had said that she really could not afford to be sick, that there was currently nowhere near enough radishes stocked in the pantry, Wembley, ever the helpful and agreeable fraggle that he was, had offered to go and get some for her. Which would have been fine, if Boober could have convinced him to go alone. But oh no, Wembley did not like being alone, and had somehow managed to convince Boober to come with him. So now they were right in the Gorgs' garden, with that great big hairy monster of a Gorg tending to his vegetables and muttering about catching a fraggle, as he tended to do. Still, at least his back was turned, and the radishes looked nice and ripe. With any luck, they could get out of here as quickly as they had come, and Boober could cook the nice ripe radishes, creating some of the fraggles' favourite dishes, while also doing laundry, relaxing, and not having to worry about adventure, or Gorgs, or germs.

"Hey, Boober, what's that?" he heard Wembley ask, distracting him from his calming thoughts about cooking and laundry.

Boober sighed. He loved Wembley dearly, but the younger fraggle could be so distractible sometimes, so indecisive, and so willing to follow Gobo into fun and adventure, that there were times when he really wished that he would leave him alone to enjoy his more solitary pursuits. "What's what?" he asked.

"Look," Wembley pointed in front of them. It was a tree – well there was nothing unusual about that, there were plenty of trees in the Gorgs' garden – but this one had a picture of a pumpkin on it. It was strange that no one had apparently ever seen this before, but there were always strange and fun things happening in and around Fraggle Rock. That was one of the many things that was wrong with the place.

"Let's go and have a look," said Wembley, starting to get excited.

Boober shook his head, and sighed again. An excited Wembley could lead to adventure and trouble and germs, at least unless he could stop him before he did anything foolish, "I've got a better idea," he said, "let's not. Let's just get a radish and get out of here before anything bad happens."

"Like what, Boober?" his companion asked.

"Oh, like monsters or Gorgs or germs or creatures that like to eat fraggles or…" his voice trailed off as Wembley, annoyingly, predictably, was nearing the strange door, "did you want an entire list, or just an overview of the main dangers?" he asked.

But Wembley, despite having quite possibly the most sensitive ears of any fraggle, was not listening to Boober's sensible warning. He had put one small, yellow-green hand on the doorknob, and was turning it carefully. "Look Boober," he said, opening the door, and peeking inside, "it looks exciting in there."

"That is a very good reason not to go in there," said Boober, "excitement leads to danger and germs and dish-pan hands. I expect that from Gobo and Red, but you at least show some sense some of the time. Wouldn't you prefer to go home and try to see faces within nice clean laundry?" he asked, almost pleading.

"Oh, come on Boober, you know what Gobo is like, he would never pass up an opportunity to go exploring."

"Yes. And I'm not Gobo. I like things safe and sensible, and that means leaving exploring to fraggles like Gobo and his Uncle Matt and…" Boober's voice trailed off as he watched Wembley carefully go through the strange door. He sighed once more, looked around, saw that that stupid Gorg had finally spotted him, and yelled after Wembley, "and wait for me!"

"Where…where are we…?" asked Boober, looking around at the creepy place, and getting so close to Wembley that he was practically standing on his tail. He gulped, turned around twice and stared at his surroundings fearfully. They were in a dark, gloomy landscape, with gnarled trees blowing about in the chill autumnal wind. There was a dark castle up on a hill, illuminated eerily against the full, bright moon. They seemed to be in the middle of a pumpkin patch, although the pumpkins were much smaller than those in the Gorgs' garden. Still, it might be possible to hide behind one of them if – or should that be when – something horrible happened.

"I…I don't know Boober," Wembley replied fearfully, his belubeous flaring up, a sure sign that a fraggle was scared, "this isn't Fraggle Rock, and I don't think it's the Gorgs' garden, those pumpkins are too small, and I can't see any radishes anywhere. And I don't think this is Outer Space either, it does not seem like anywhere that Gobo's Uncle Matt has ever written about in his postcards to Gobo. Of course, I could be wrong, but on the other hand…"

Boober placed his hand quickly over Wembley's mouth, to stop the younger fraggle from Wembling, and doubtlessly alerting all sorts of dangers to their whereabouts. "Quiet, someone will hear us," he said.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but I couldn't help overhearing you," it was a genteel, polite voice, and did not sound particularly threatening. Despite this, Boober looked up fearfully to see who had spoken. Then felt his own belubeous flare up. About the only good thing that he could say about the stranger was that he was not a Gorg. He was most definitely not a Gorg. He was much too small – not to mention _much_ too skinny, to be a Gorg. He was about the size of a tall Silly Creature, and he was a skeleton, dressed in formal, black clothing. He was looking down at them with eye sockets rather than eyes, and seemed more curious than angry. Wembley and Boober merely stared up at him, shaking in fear. The skeleton – somehow - looked down at them for a moment longer, before reaching up with his bony hands, and removing the skull from his head. Then he reached down, his skull still in his hands, and then the skull said, "I am most terribly sorry to disturb you, but you look like you might be lost. I was wondering if I may be of assistance to you." Boober had no idea what happened after that, as he fainted

Boober felt consciousness slowly coming upon him. He could hear someone talking, and he listened for a moment, curious despite himself, to find out what exactly was going on.

"…that was this time last year. But it all turned out okay in the end, Sandy Claws went back to Christmas Town and made everything all right again. So we could have our Halloween celebration, and they could celebrate Christmas in the way that they were used to. I guess that proves that you should never try to take over someone else's holiday."

"I'll remember that," that was Wembley. He did not sound scared.

"Oh, but I am forgetting my manners. My name is Jack Skellington, and I am King of Halloween Town. Do you have a name?"

"Oh, my name is Wembley, if it pleases your Majesty."

Oh no, thought Boober, not again.

"Wembley, as in the stadium in London, England?"

"Wembley, as in the fraggle from Fraggle Rock."

Boober suddenly sat up and stared at Wembley, although it was difficult for Wembley to be able to tell, as Boober's cap covered his eyes. "No, you are not going to get into this sort of trouble again," he said, pointing an accusing finger at his friend, "this is just like that time with the Gorgs, or that time with that horrible genie, or that shifty wizard, or that…" his voice trailed off as he looked around. He was being stared at by maybe two dozen pairs of eyes, and one pair of eye sockets. Those looking at him were green, or blue, or red, although that was perfectly normal by fraggle standards. They seemed almost like Silly Creatures, but with strange colouring and pointed features. Boober gulped, and turned his attention back to Wembley.

The younger fraggle was sitting down beside him, on what appeared to be a wooden table. He appeared to be drinking something from some kind of silver metal cup. He did not look particularly scared. Boober watched Wembley look up at all the…whatever they were that were looking down on them with expressions of confusion and compassion and curiosity and quite possibly other emotions that did not begin with the letter c, and then Wembley said apologetically, "You must forgive my friend, he gets scared easily."

"I get scared easily!" Boober shouted, "What about you? Always trying to make friends with those who are very different, and look at the trouble it gets you into! First the Gorgs, then that genie, oh and don't forget Convincing John and that wizard. When are you going to get it into your little green head that not everyone is as nice and as friendly as fraggles?"

"Um, I think we should leave this conversation until later," said Wembley cautiously, pointing to where a tall, graceful female was holding out something towards Boober.

Boober turned his attention towards her. She had long, brownish-red hair and a demeanour that reminded him somewhat of Mokey – dreamily calm, but still compassionate and creative. She was holding what Boober had at first thought was a fraggle-sized silver cup, but what was, on closer inspection, a small silver thimble. She smiled at him, "You must be feeling stressed and confused at all this," she sounded understanding, "have a drink of this, it might help you to feel better."

Uncertainly, Boober reached out and took the thimble. Now that he had managed to get a closer look at it, it was clear that Wembley was drinking something out of an identical looking thimble. "Thank you," he said gratefully, taking the thimble from her, and wondering what would happen to him if he refused this gesture of hospitality, and whether or not it would involve fraggles cooked with roast potatoes and onion gravy.

"You are welcome," she replied. She even sounded a bit like Mokey. Boober started to relax a little.

This did not last long. Her arm came off, still attached to the thimble, when Boober took the thimble from her. He stared at the thimble for a long moment, with the pale blue arm still attached to it. He thought he was going to faint again, but the tall female did not seem to notice that he was showing such concern, as she calmly reached down towards her detached arm with her other arm, and began to sew it back on, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Does everyone around here have removable limbs?" Boober demanded, on the verge of panicking.

"It's all right Boober," Wembley said, putting a hand on Boober's shoulder in a comforting sort of way. "It's their job to be scary, just like it's my job to be the siren for the Volunteer Fire Department, or your job to do laundry."

"If it's their job to be scary, then they are very good at their job," Boober replied.

"Why thank you," said the tall skeleton, who had been watching the whole thing, despite apparently not having any eyes, "we do do our best here in Halloween Town to make sure that everyone has a wonderfully scary Halloween."

"Get me out of here!" Boober said, to no one in particular.

"They like being scary," Wembley said, "it's what their holiday is all about. But they're not mean, it's all supposed to be fun. It's a bit like the Festival of Bells."

"You're friend has been telling me about your Festival of Bells," said the skeleton to Boober, "it sounds a lot like Christmas Town, a place I visited last year, when I wanted a chance to get away from the pressures of being the King of Halloween Town. Unfortunately, they also did not quite understand the ways of our holidays, and I must admit that I did make rather a mess of everything. Still, Sandy Claws was able to sort the whole mess out in the end, so no real harm was done."

Boober turned his attention to Wembley, "Do you know what he's on about?" he asked.

"It's simple," said Wembley, "there's all of these different holidays, and you can get to them through different doors. Christmas Town is like The Festival of Bells, as it's a time when it's cold and you play games and give gifts and things," he turned his attention back to the skeleton, "Isn't that right, Mr Skellington?" he asked.

"Perfectly," replied the skeleton.

Boober did not know what to say to that, so he just looked down at his drink instead. That at least was something that was relatively easy to understand in this crazy place. The liquid within the thimble was a sort of yellowy-orange colour. He turned his attention back to Wembley, "And just what is this thing?" he asked, "Is it something scary and slimy?"

"It's just pumpkin juice," Wembley replied, reassuringly, "it's a bit sweeter than the stuff we have back home, but it's very nice. Just try a sip; it will please our new friends."

Boober stared at him for a moment, and then took a very small sip. It was exactly as Wembley had described it; a bit sweeter than he would have ideally liked, but nowhere near unpleasant. He looked back at Wembley, who was smiling at him approvingly, and shook his head in exasperation. He then turned around to examine the strange onlookers, who were watching them curiously. Only Wembley could be able to get into this sort of trouble, and see it as an excuse to try and make friends. "How long have I been unconscious?" he asked, turning his attention back to Wembley once more.

"Not that long," replied Wembley, "although a lot has happened."

"And that reminds me that there is a lot that needs to be done for our Halloween celebration," said the skeleton, now addressing everyone present. "Since it is clear that our guests have not been seriously harmed, we must get back to organising the songs and the dancing for this year's Halloween festival."

There was a general cheer of approval, as the crowd slowly dissipated. Some broke off into small groups of two or three, and started to practice singing or dancing together. Boober watched them for a long moment, surprised and almost mesmerised by the spectacle before him. Though they were much bigger than fraggles, and seemed to need to practice singing and dancing in order to get it just right, rather than it being a spontaneous, almost unconscious reaction to strong emotions such as fear, or sadness, or joy, it was surprising just how much like fraggle's they could be, in their clear enjoyment and enthusiasm for a chance to sing and dance and play.

Wembley nodded, "You're thinking what I'm thinking, aren't you," he said quietly, "that they're a lot more like fraggles, a lot more like us, than you would have possibly imagined, just by looking at them."

"I guess people really do come in lots of different shapes and sizes and colours and things," Boober murmured quietly, "maybe we're not so different after all. It's just a shame that they're so scary," he added.

Wembley nodded again, and the skeleton came back over to them, peering at them with his eye sockets, "You are welcome to stay and enjoy our Halloween celebration, if you would like to do so," he said politely.

"We'd love to," said Wembley excitedly.

"Except we can't," Boober added quickly, before Wembley got them into yet more trouble, "we really should be getting back home," he added quickly, hoping that the skeleton would not take offence at the refusal, "our friends will be missing us, and worried. One of them is sick, and we really should get back and see how she is doing."

"Yeah, I guess you are right," said Wembley, sounding disappointed.

The skeleton nodded, "Then allow me to escort you back to your home," he said politely, and lifted them off of the wooden table.

Boober gasped in fear as the skeleton carried them back over to the pumpkin patch, but Wembley did not seem to be afraid, and so he started to relax, just a little bit. Still, he was glad when the skeleton finally put them down, at the far corner of the pumpkin patch, near a tree with an open door on it. Boober peeked inside cautiously, and was relieved – for once – to be able to see the Gorgs' garden, complete with that stupid Gorg still tending to his vegetables. He turned his attention back to the skeleton, "Um, thank you," he said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and ashamed of being so scared of him.

"You are most welcome," the skeleton replied, bowing slightly, "but now, as you so rightly have said, you really should be getting back to where you belong. As should I," he added, looking away for a moment, at where the Halloween celebrations were becoming louder and more boisterous with every moment.

"Thank you again, Mr Skellington," said Wembley politely, as he followed Boober through the door, and back into the Gorgs' garden. Then he turned his attention back to Boober, "Isn't it nice making friends?" he asked.

"I'd rather be making a nice radish soufflé," Boober replied, grabbing a radish when he was sure that the Gorg was looking the other way, "that's enough adventuring for me to last me until the time of the Next Fraggle Moon. Now grab a radish and let's get out of here before anything else exciting happens."

"Right," Wembley said, grabbing a plump red radish. For a moment, he stared up at where the Gorg was examining his pumpkins, and he looked rather pensive.

"Oh, what now?" Boober demanded, before he could stop himself.

"I was just thinking…" he said.

"Never a good sign," Boober replied.

"If it is possible to make friends with people like Mr Skellington, then do you think that maybe, just possibly, it might be possible to make friends with the Gorgs someday."

Boober shook his head, "Wembley, I will be a Gorg myself before that happens," he said.

"Yeah, I guess so," Wembley said, sounding rather disappointed, "but you never know, maybe one day… just maybe…" his voice trailed off as he followed Boober back into Fraggle Rock.


End file.
